Xavier's Institute for Shafted Youngsters
by Senvalox
Summary: Poking fun at RYROs, ROBBYs, the Iceman/Rogue/Pyro triangle, and everything in between. Who is Rogue really meant to be with? Romance is overrated. Be prepared for heavy sarcasm and chaotic hilarity.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning(s):** Items that will be addressed and/or poked fun at: Sappy romances, Mary-Sues, OOC-ness, and pairings. The following characters will be the prominent target of mockery, if not torment: Bobby Drake and Kitty Pryde (possibly a few others). If you are an avid fan of either of those characters, I suggest you refrain from reading further. But be aware that every single character mentioned will be made fun of in some way.

**Setting:** Post _X-Men: The Last Stand_.

**Chapter 1**

It was a bright, sunny day in all of New York. Birds flittered around in pairs, chirping in happy song. The sun itself seemed to beam solely down on Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, aka Mutant High, aka X-Men Headquarters, etc. All of the students at said institute were littering the halls as they frolicked merrily to their classes, eagerly looking forward to filling their developing craniums with fascinating knowledge and information, half of which they will never use for the rest of their mortal lives. Pleasant greetings were exchanged between each individual. Everyone had such a positive outlook on life, never mind that the rest of the world (cough—humans—cough) wanted them wiped off the face of the earth. Ah, all was well with Xavier's Institute, indeed.

Are you kidding me?

Rain poured down in harsh torrents, rivaling the infamous tropical storms of Florida. The sky was gray and depressing, reflecting the mood of every single mutant taking residence in the mansion. The loss of their leader, Professor Charles Xavier, had severely affected the mental health of some of the X-Men, while others kept all their grief buried inside until they eventually suffered from a nervous breakdown.

Ororo Munroe lifted a shaky hand toward her mouth, four Tums-sized pills rolling around on her palm. She took them with a large gulp of water, vaguely wondering how her daily medication didn't count as overdose. It was four of those pills in the morning, four at night. She had total faith in the prescription and dosage orders by Dr. Moira MacTaggert, however, even though the woman was a brilliant _geneticist,_ not physician. Or psychiatrist, for that matter.

She hastily shoved her three pill bottles under her desk as her students began to pour into the classroom. The increasing noise began to grate on her already fragile nerves as girls blabbered about the latest gossip and boys shoved and elbowed each other in some idiotic form of male bonding. Some faces wore painfully fake smiles and some bothered not with the pretense of happiness and sulked in the back row. Ororo plastered her own strained smile on her face and proceeded to start class by injecting a sickening amount of cheerfulness in her voice.

"Good morning, please take your seats," she said in a deceptively calm tone.

Every student obediently complied and they sat down and gazed up expectantly at their new official leader. She stared back at them in silence for a moment, noting that something was off but unable to put her finger on it. Her mind had quite taken a turn for the worse after her breakdown, and each mutant was careful to make sure they didn't trigger another one, or else it may be her final demise and the popular-but-feared Wolverine would become their next leader (God forbid). Finally, after a solid two minutes of silence and tense eye-darting, the class jumped in their seats with a start when Ororo slammed her fist in her palm, at last realizing the thing that was amiss in her classroom.

"Where is Rogue?"

-x X x-

_BUMP. BUMP. BUMP._

The Southern belle was busy lugging her oversized half-ton suitcase down the main stairs. The thing was filled with all her belongings, with a few socks, sleeves, and bra straps hanging out of the sides. Her lips were set in a firm line and her eyes looked straight ahead in determination as she ignored the curious stares the younger mutants threw at her as they passed by.

_Screw all of this… I'm sure they'll be happy that the _human_ is leaving the premises._

She reached the foot of the stairs and dropped her suitcase on the floor with a loud _thud_ as she placed her hands on her lower back and arched her torso upwards. A sigh passed her lips as she heard the satisfying popping of her vertebrae. It had been quite a workout dragging her suitcase from her room 0.3 miles away in the girls' dorm wing to the first floor. She was surprised that the noise hadn't brought on any confrontation or questions. But then again, who would want to talk to the traitorous _human_?

Heaving another sigh, she bent down to pick up her luggage with every intention of leaving without saying good bye to anyone because she wanted her departure to be quiet yet dramatic and have a guilt-driving effect on all those who had wronged her. Even Logan, her long-time protector, friend, and hero, was one of the people she had kindly asked to fuck off earlier that week. The man was so self-absorbed in his grief over the late Jean Grey, the apparent love of his life, that he hadn't been much support to Rogue ever since the last battle at Alcatraz.

Don't get her wrong, she was totally sympathetic to his heartbreak and pain, yadda, yadda, yadda… But the day he denied her request to gut the two-timing bastard Bobby Drake was the day he lost her favor and adoration.

Just as she reached the front doors, they flung open (by themselves, no less), and a bright light poured inside, illuminating the foyer and momentarily blinding her. Squinting, she focused on the silhouette standing in the middle of the radiance. The image looked very much like a scene from a sappy drama or soap opera, with the silhouette serving as some sort of angel and answer to her prayers (even though she stopped praying a long time ago). She even thought she heard a chorus of sopranos singing "Hallelujah" in the background.

Suddenly, the light vanished and the silhouette became the figure of none other than John Allerdyce, or _Pyro_, as he anally liked to be called. He stood there soaking wet from the downpour with a duffel bag slung behind one shoulder, wearing his signature smirk and _I-rule-the-fucking-world_ look. She gaped at him once her sight returned.

"What the hell are you doing here?" were her words of welcome to the pyromaniac.

He glared at her, because in most Ryros, John has to sneer and snarl and be a complete ass to her at first in order for their future happiness to work out.

"Miss me, Roguey?" he asked her derisively, not sure why he called her that since he couldn't recall ever addressing her by that nickname since he'd known her.

Oh well. It seemed to fit, giving the readers the impression that he and Rogue had been friends close enough to give each other such _original_ nicknames in the past, and perhaps there was more to their relationship than any of the three films had let on. Gasp!

"You wish, Johnny," said Rogue, following suit and filling her role as the one who was constantly in denial. "But what are you doing back here?"

John paused for a second, not sure which story to go with. Usually he would've been forced back to the institute against his will or thrown in jail or hanging around in a bar trying to detach his lips from a beer mug or something. This time, though, he had apparently returned—unscathed—by himself even though Iceman had knocked him out at Alcatraz and left his fate to the assumptions of the viewers who had watched the last film.

Stumped at trying to come up with a good reason for his arrival, he told her, "I woke up in a hospital after the last battle. Magneto's down and out so this is the only other place I could go."

Ah… the plot thickens.

…Or not. That was, by far, the most mundane and worst possible explanation for his return to the institute. But hey, it works for this storyline.

"And what makes you think you're welcome back here, after everything you did?" Rogue demanded, being the scornful realist she was.

"Welcome back, John!" an overly enthusiastic voice exclaimed from behind her.

Whirling around, she came face to face with Hank McCoy, who was grinning rather maniacally in all his blue furry goodness. The poor man had been another who had suffered terribly after Charles Xavier's untimely death, and he was now a bit unwell in the head, seeming to have inherited Xavier's unending patience and kindness… only in a twisted, creepy sort of way. He now possessed a lifelong cheery disposition, similar to those of absent minded salesmen who never took "no" for an answer and walked around with permanent eerie smiles. That and he gave off the vibe that he was going to eat one of the younger students at any given minute.

Rogue stepped to the side uneasily as Hank lumbered forward, grabbed the entire front of John's shirt with one paw, and yanked the teenager inside. He then wrapped the drenched boy in a mighty bear hug, patting him heavily on the back as John struggled to breathe.

"Don't worry, my boy, we forgive you for all your wrongdoings," Hank said, probably trying to sound kindly but only coming off as some sort of pedophile. "We'll just have Rogue here show you to your room. Have a good day, now!"

He released John as he caught sight of one stray student sneaking across the hall leading to the recreation room and he went off in pursuit of the hooky-playing mutant. Rogue's heart went out to the poor young soul, as he would no doubt be running from the half insane Beast in approximately thirty seconds.

John was scowling as he rotated his left shoulder, hoping that it wasn't dislocated. "What the fuck is up with him?"

"Well, ever since the Professor died, no one here has been the same, especially the adults," Rogue snapped in an accusing tone, clearly throwing the blame at him even though Jean Grey had been the one who had killed Xavier, not the Brotherhood.

When he voiced this fact, sounding quite self-righteous with anger, she glowered at him but didn't initiate further argument for fear that she would eventually find his cynical attitude and angry mannerisms somewhat attractive. Nope, there was no way she was going to succumb to his bad boy appeal. Not this early, anyway.

John, however, had always secretly been in love with her—or attracted to her, at least—and he always chose the least opportune moments to bring up his opinion of her and Bobby.

"So where is your little ice prick boy toy? I have a score to settle with him." At her stiffening, he smirked again and said mockingly, "Aww, I get it. Did Bobby-bear not come around even after you took the cure? How sad…"

Now at this point, Rogue usually had three options.

Option 1: She could break down and cry about how cruel and heartless he was for saying such a thing and adding to her anguish, i.e. "John, how _could_ you? Don't you see how heartbroken I am that Bobby has been cheating on me with that little angel-faced bitch Kitty Pryde? You are such an obnoxious, narcissistic asshole!" _Sob, sob, weep…_

Option 2: She could laugh humorlessly and inform him of how much she hated Bobby Drake and how she would have been better off with John. Then she could shove him against the wall and make out with him right there, at which of course he would not protest.

Option 3: She could rear back a fist and beat the everlasting shit out of him.

She chose Option 3.

"OW! Shit! What the hell is your problem—OW! Stop it!" he yelled as her punches rained down on him. She had always been one of the best hand-to-hand combat fighters during Danger Room training, so it took a considerable amount of time to capture her wrists and hold her still. "Damn it, woman! Get a grip!"

_Okay._ Yanking her arms free, she did get a grip—around his neck. She was in the process of attempting to strangle him when a new voice interrupted them over their loud swearing and struggling.

"Rogue! What are you doing? With _Allerdyce_?" Bobby Drake shrieked, making his convenient entrance to the story… which _shockingly_ happened to be when they had their hands on each other. "Why are you here? I thought you were dead!"

Rogue stopped trying to block off John's air supply as she snapped her head around to gaze at the object of her sorrow. There he stood with his perfect demeanor, perfect voice, perfect hair, body, face, teeth, eyeballs…

So fucking _perfect_ on the outside that it made her sick!

"Piss off and mind your own business, Bobby," she growled, pinning him with the most malicious look her pretty face could manage. "You have nothing to do with this." Even though he was the reason she had attacked John in the first place.

"I won't p… pi… I won't just mind my own business when I know that Pyro is here!" Bobby retorted, very much unable to speak any swear, curse, or vulgar words since his mouth was just too _perfect_ to lower itself to forming such scandalous syllables.

John took that as his cue to curl his lip into a sneer. It was a requirement that he sneer at least once every fifteen minutes. "Sorry, Iceman, didn't mean to break your heart by surviving. But hey, I'll actually give you another chance to try and get rid of me. Let's pick up where we left off."

He reached into his pocket for his—yep, you guessed it—precious Zippo. He loved that thing more than he loved breathing. When he didn't feel it, he checked his other pocket. Not there, either. Frowning, he took several seconds to dig around the other seven pockets in his cargo pants, plus the three secret ones near the hem. Finally, he found it inside the pocket of one of the pockets (that's right… his pockets had pockets) and took it out with a triumphant smirk.

Rogue rolled her eyes.

"We can't fight here, Allerdyce. People might get hurt," Bobby the Great told him. He glanced briefly at Rogue's ginormous suitcase sitting on the floor. In a moment of A.D.D., he asked her, "Are you going somewhere, Rogue?"

The boy may have been physically and temperamentally flawless, but he certainly wasn't very bright.

"Way to notice the obvious, Bobby," she said condescendingly. "Yeah, I was hoping to leave without making a scene, but that kind of distracted me." She pointed at "that," which was John. He moved to bite her finger.

"What? Why?" Bobby asked, giving Rogue the impression that his IQ was deteriorating every passing minute. "You can't leave! Where would you go?"

She pried her finger from in between John's teeth and glared at her former boyfriend. "Don't act like you give a damn about me, Bobby Drake. Just go scurry back to Kitty and don't even worry about it."

"But—"

"Or why don't you stop stalling and take me up on my offer?" John cut in, wanting to feel important by participating in the conversation. He had flicked the lighter open and was now manipulating the flame to form into a hand that flipped off the other male mutant.

Bobby frowned indignantly at the rude gesture. "We're not fighting here and that's final. I'm going to inform Storm about your presence here. We'll figure out from there what to do with you." And making himself out to be the bigger man, he turned and started to walk away.

John picked up a nearby vase and chucked it at Bobby's head. It hit him with a _BONK_ but amazingly didn't shatter until it fell to the ground.

"Ow!"

To both John's and Rogue's disappointment, Bobby didn't hit the ground, either. He just whirled back around and raised an eyebrow at John, rubbing the back of his head. Rogue could almost see his IQ's numeral digit taking a plunge.

Ororo then walked in, having lost her way during her search for Rogue that had begun almost an hour ago.

"There you are!" she called, spotting her teaching assistant. "Rogue, where have you been? I had to cancel class today because you weren't there."

The reluctant teaching assistant silently wondered whether Storm had lost the ability to teach, among other things.

"Ms. Munroe, we have a situation," Rogue stated in a business-like voice, hoping to divert the attention away from her.

Ororo shifted her gaze to John, whom she then stared at blankly as if she had no idea who he was. Then her eyes widened. "John Allerdyce?"

John scowled at Rogue as if she'd just tattled on him.

Not wanting him to be _too_ angry with her, she quickly relayed his story to Ororo for the sake of her happy ending with him (should the author of the story decide on it, that is). The new leader of the X-Men seemed to be listening only half-heartedly, her eyes occasionally dropping to the pill bottles she held in her hands.

"Okay," she said once Rogue had finished a thorough evaluation of John's circumstances. "John, you may stay here. As long as you hand over that lighter."

He looked at her as if she'd just asked him to donate his heart, brain, liver, and both testicles. "NEVER!"

"John, just give her the damn thing," Rogue snapped tiredly.

"Fine," he relented right away, revealing himself to be a whipped sap who obeyed the Southern belle's every command. But he would never admit it, and he'd deny any such accusation by cranking up his badass attitude. He placed his beloved Zippo in Ororo's outstretched hand like a good little pyromaniac, although he felt like crying for the first time in his life.

"Thank you. Bobby," Ororo turned to address the neglected mutant who had been standing several feet away without saying anything because he was way too polite to butt into their dialogue, "I want you to take John to his old room and help him settle in."

Bobby's jaw dropped in shock. He didn't know what astounded him more: her asking him to actually help John settle in or her asking him to take him to his old room because…

"But Ms. Munroe!" he sputtered. "He used to share a room with _me_!"

"Excellent. Then you two can catch up and bond just like old times," Ororo smiled, completely forgetting that the two had hated each other for… oh, say… almost a year now. She ignored his further sputtering as she once again spoke to Rogue. "We have a class later this afternoon. I expect you will be there?"

To her horror, Rogue found herself nodding.

"Good, good. Now, if you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to," the weather witch said, gripping her pill bottles a bit more tightly as she gave them one last smile before leaving.

John, who had remained amazingly quiet this entire time, still didn't say a word. He was looking longingly toward the direction Ororo had gone, obviously distraught over the loss of his lighter.

Bobby sighed heavily and approached him with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner kneeling at the guillotine. "Come on, Allerdyce. Guess we'd better put you somewhere."

That snapped John out of his trance and he sneered at his longtime rival (he estimated fifteen minutes had passed since his last sneer). "Just lead the way then, Iceman. But know that this isn't over."

Bobby only shook his head and started heading toward the staircase leading to the boys' dorm wing. John picked up his duffel bag and hesitated as he regarded Rogue with a strange twinkle in his eye.

"Don't run off just yet. Things are going to get interesting here," he told her. "In fact, you may just fall for me yet." He winked at her before following Bobby, hoping against hope that she actually _did_ stay. In every Ryro or Robby, she was notorious for running away from the men at least once.

"Yeah, when hell freezes over," came her sardonic reply, even though he was out of ear shot.

She glanced down at the abandoned suitcase lying near her feet. Then she looked at the still open doors that presented her with a nice view of the stormy atmosphere outside.

"Fuck it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"So," Rogue said tightly, scanning her narrowed eyes over the jaded casualties that littered the classroom. "Any questions?"

It was a ridiculous question, really. Many of the faces that stared back at her were nearly lifeless, having been put practically to death by her dreadfully _boring_ lecture of the day (and that was an understatement). Some students had even given up all hope of desperately feigning attention and were now decorating their desks with small pools of drool as they slumbered in unconscious bliss. Apparently, no one gave a flying fuck about the gazillion ways to solve quadratics, logarithms, and inverses in pre-calculus.

The joys of education…

The irked teaching assistant shot an annoyed look at Ororo, who was sitting at her desk and dangerously close to dozing off herself.

_Oh, for crying out loud…_

"Hey look, is that Magneto hovering outside the window?" Rogue asked nonchalantly, pointing toward the large open window next to the chalkboard.

It was amazing how the miracle of life seemed to return with a fierce vengeance to the ailing mutants. The sound of various school supplies clattering on the floor and chairs scraping back filled the room as the occupants began panicking all at once. Even those who had been sleeping peacefully five seconds ago were now fully alert and making a beeline for the exit.

Ororo had bolted up from her seat, her numerous bottles of prescription pills tipping and scattering over her desk. "Magneto?"

Rogue picked up a ruler and began banging the board with it in an attempt to get everyone's attention. "Relax! Magneto's not here! I was just trying to wake you guys up!"

The movement instantly ceased in the classroom as twenty-three pairs of eyes glared in her direction.

"How could you do that?" one girl whined. "That really wasn't funny, you know."

Rogue, as the heroine of the story, was always supposed to be very tolerant and understanding and sensible. But not this time.

"Good, because I'm in no mood for humor myself," she declared sharply. "All of you get your butts back into those seats _now_."

In the blink of an eye, every single derriere was in its assigned seat. Even Ororo's.

It still surprised her how the younger students listened to her without defiance, despite her taking the cure. Well, her being the protagonist and all, it wouldn't do for the entire student body to hate her guts, especially with all the antagonists she would be encountering later on.

"I'm going to ask one more time. Any questions?" It sounded like a threat, not an inquiry.

No one dared to move or speak.

"Okay, then. You're dismissed," Rogue said wearily, even though it was supposed to be Ororo's call. The older woman didn't object, however.

She had just finished clearing away her medication by the time the last student left the room. Rogue turned to her and crossed her arms.

"Ms. Munroe, I still don't get why you picked me for your teaching assistant. I hate math, I can't stand teaching, and I'm not even a mutant anymore," she told her.

"We're not going to kick you out just because you took the cure. But since you are not a mutant now, as you said, I needed to give you a position in the institute. And this is it." Ororo's smile looked suspiciously like the ones Bobby had given her when he was hiding something.

Rogue was perturbed, but mysteriously found herself unable to find the desire to leave again, possibly due to a certain pyromaniac's presence in the institute. Shrugging, she bid Ororo good bye and walked out of the classroom, hoping to go to her room and embark on the tedious task of unpacking her things.

Of course, there was no way in hell the rest of her day would go uneventful. Fate was not that kind. In fact, it was a downright bitch, she soon discovered, as she rounded the corner and walked straight into the petite form of Kitty Pryde.

-x X x-

Bobby's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched John produce box after box of condoms from his duffel bag and toss them onto the floor as if they were everyday items that belonged out in the open, where everyone could see them.

"W-what do you think you're doing with those?" an appalled Bobby screeched. The sight of those horrid things was burning his sensitive retinas.

"What's the matter, Iceman? Can't handle being around the big boys?" John taunted, tossing a box at him.

Bobby violently recoiled from the flying box of sin and jumped back several feet, putting a large amount of distance between him and the other boy. "I won't stand to have you and your… your… repulsive rubber raincoats polluting my room!"

John shot him an irritated look and retrieved the box. "So then what protection do you use with that mousy girl?" he asked bluntly.

"_Excuse me?_" Bobby was feeling a nosebleed coming on from listening to such a vile subject.

Little did he know, John had actually never had any use for them before because he was secretly a virgin (I KNOW, I can't believe it, either!) who hadn't the slightest interest in physical intimacy until he met Rogue, the one person in the world he couldn't be physically intimate with… until now. But since every Ryro requires him to be some hot and out-of-control sex god, he figured he'd just lug the condoms around for show.

So his unpacking went on for a few more minutes while Bobby hid behind his pillows, glaring at John for violating the sacred ground that was his room, even if it used to be John's room, too.

Some more minutes passed.

Hating uncomfortable silences, John broke it. "So I don't get why you'd drop Rogue for Kathy—"

"Kitty!"

"Whatever. The point is you're a moron." He shoved the last of his clothes into his closet and then fixed Bobby with a feral grin. "Rogue's up for the taking, Drake. You won't mind if I give it a shot, do you?" With a somewhat characteristic sinister cackle, he stalked out of the room.

That was what finally penetrated the foot-thick bone that was Bobby's skull.

_John and Rogue…_

_Together?_

Over his dead body! He bolted to his feet, a new determination surging through him. There was no way he was going to lose her to John Allerdyce, even though he'd technically already lost her and was now tap dancing around an almost-relationship with Shadowcat. But alas, that last fact failed to register in his air-filled head as he hurried out the door and set the motion for the overlapping love triangles of the story.

-x X x-

Meanwhile, the two contenders for Bobby's love were facing off in the ultimate cat fight of the century.

Well, not really.

The look of horror Kitty was directing at Rogue eliminated any such possibility of estrogenic bloodshed. Unlike Bobby, Kitty actually had some brain cells worth a shit, and therefore possessed enough intelligence to know that she was a primary part of the cause of Rogue's disintegrated relationship with Bobby, Rogue's de-evolution into a mere homo sapien, and pretty much the overall destruction of Rogue's life.

Wow. If only there was an award for accomplishing all that in one month…

Rogue wasn't sure how she should address the little gawking man-stealer before her. Should she be the bitter, jealous ex? The angry scorned woman? Or how about the nauseating "although-you-stole-the-only-man-I've-ever-loved-I 'm-not-holding-a-grudge-at-all-I'm-very-happy-for- you-let's-be-friends-for-life-teehee!" role?

Before she could choose, Kitty composed herself and said shakily, "Look, Rogue, about Bobby—"

Rogue, however, had absolutely no intention of sticking around to hear her justification of sucking Bobby to her side like a vacuum. Deciding that from then on she would reject any acknowledgement of Kitty's existence, she wordlessly moved around the other girl and continued walking down the corridor.

Kitty watched her go, thinking about going after her.

"Kitty!" Bobby called, appearing from an adjoining hallway.

She turned to regard him with a blindingly bright smile and heart-filled eyes. "Hi, Bobby!" she greeted happily, instantly losing all memory of the encounter with Rogue. "I haven't seen you all day!"

Her sentences to him always ended in exclamation points because she was supposed to be very thankful and happy and excited that she had him, especially after all the "effort" she'd put forth in wrestling him from Rogue's "clutches."

He returned her smile with one of his perfect ones… you know, the type where his teeth are pearly white and glinting in whatever source of light is around and everything. Yeah…

"Hey, have you seen Rogue?" he asked innocently.

Kitty's smile faltered.

Now, he didn't know it (can't really blame him this time, with him possessing a Y chromosome and the levels of testosterone that he has), but he had made two mistakes here.

Mistake #1: The first words out of his mouth were not "You're looking beautiful today!" or "How are you doing, sweetheart?" or "I want you to join me tonight for dinner at (insert outrageously overpriced restaurant here)" or some such nonsense like that.

Mistake #2: He had the nerve to mention his ex-girlfriend in her presence, even going so far as to _ask_ her of her whereabouts, as if the two girls were the best of chums and all that jazz.

The result of his error was a very OOC Kitty.

"Bobby! Why would you think I'd know where she was?" cried his affronted almost-girlfriend, even though she had just seen Rogue not forty-five seconds ago. "Why don't you ever ask how I am? Why don't you like me anymore?"

Bobby, with the inability to see how he had upset her due to the sheer fact that he was a man and didn't understand women and their insane bouts of hormonal hysterics whatsoever, only looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"You couldn't say a simple 'good morning' to me?" she went on, looking and sounding like the epitome of PMS.

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

Quick as a flash, her scrunching face instantly broke back out into a smile. "Oh, don't worry! I forgive you! Now that I know you love me enough to say you're sorry and I no longer have to feel insecure about other women, I think I actually like Rogue!"

The statement was so full of inaccuracies that he didn't bother to correct any of them.

"Yeah, about her… listen, Kitty," Bobby said nervously. He shifted his weight on one foot and looked at everything but her. "I like you and care about you. A lot," he added for good measure. "But I also still have feelings for Rogue."

He held his breath and waited for her reaction.

He didn't have to wait long.

"I hate that bitch!" screamed Kitty, eyes burning with a fire that would put John to shame.

"But I thought you just said you liked her," Bobby told her weakly.

"That was when I thought you were all mine!"

He winced. "Kitty, please don't be so overdramatic…"

"I'M NOT BEING OVERDRAMATIC!" she screeched overdramatically.

They were now attracting much unwanted attention, and several students who had been heading their way immediately veered off in another direction, not keen on getting involved with a lovers' quarrel. They especially had good reason to avoid it, for Kitty looked absolutely hostile as she threw a tantrum right there in the middle of the hall. The fleeing students all pitied Bobby, who was haplessly another poor victim of a woman's wrath.

Two minutes into her shrieking and cursing, she realized Bobby had disappeared, having snuck away in mild terror. She clamped her mouth shut and glared at nothing in particular, plotting unjustified revenge against the girl whose man she had stolen in the first place.

-x X x-

Logan was in his room minding his own business when a loud, obnoxious knock sounded on his door. He glanced up reluctantly from where he was sprawled untidily in his armchair, looking more like an animal than ever with his bloodshot eyes and serious lack of grooming. Needless to say, countless bottles of every imaginable kind of alcohol adorned his dresser, bed, floor, and every other available surface of his room. Most of them were empty while some were half full, ranging from beer to hard liquor to mysterious liquids that were probably close to poison.

It was a wonder he hadn't died yet with all the crap he'd been consuming for the past month or so, even with his healing powers. Furthermore, his numerous attempts to take his own life had been frustratingly squandered by his mutation, and he was to the point where he'd sentenced himself to becoming one with his armchair and staring forever outside the window in dark, grim despair.

However, the next knock—noticeably louder and more obnoxious than the previous one—was threatening to break his resolution. He glared at the door in irritation, wanting to yell at the discourteous ingrate on the other side to go away and leave him the hell alone so he could be depressed in peace. But the effort it would take to bring his vocal cords back to life just seemed too troublesome, so he considered staying quiet and pretending that he wasn't in.

That didn't work, though, since it was a well known fact around the mansion that he had locked himself in his room after Jean Grey's funeral and ordered two years' supply of alcohol, intending to drink away his sorrows for a very, very long time. Plus, the combined odor of unwashed Wolverine and heavy liquor wafting around the entire staff hallway was a telltale sign of his presence.

As the person outside finally figured out that the "politeness" of knocking was not effective in getting them inside, the pounding ceased, followed by the door swinging open to reveal a very aggravated-looking Warren. His gaze of contempt at the once glorified Wolverine quickly faded to pity as he took in the older man's pathetic state.

Logan was staring back at him in something that looked close to awe, as he failed to recognize Warren and instead saw the Angel of Death standing there, ready to take him away and put him out of his misery. "Took you long enough. Now hurry up and send me to heaven or hell or wherever the fuck I'm supposed to go," he ordered gruffly.

Warren only sighed and took one step inside, pinching his nostrils together with one hand to avoid inhaling the powerful smell. "I'm not your grim reaper, Logan, I'm just a messenger. Rogue told me to tell you—you know, since she's not talking to you—that Ms. Munroe and Mr. McCoy are going to have a staff meeting tonight, and they'd be honored if you'd grace them with your presence," he said.

"No," Logan replied decisively.

The younger mutant shrugged and turned to leave. "Okay, but just know that you can't stay in here forever. You'll have to come out sooner or later." The door shut behind him and his footsteps could be heard running down the hallway as he desperately sought to draw fresh air into his lungs.

Logan remained in his current position, now eyeing the bottle of whiskey that was just an inch or two out of his reach. Leave his room? What a preposterous idea! The nerve they had to expect him to cease his rightful mourning prematurely! Grace them with his presence, indeed. If they wanted to see him, they would have to mosey on up here and forcefully drag him out. So there! With a firm grunt of finality, he snatched the bottle and started to chug the contents down.

The door opened again, this time slowly. Logan's temper finally snapped and he growled loudly in outrage as he prepared to hurl the bottle at the intruder. But the face that greeted his line of vision immediately doused cold water on his rising blood pressure, and his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as the bottle slipped from his hand to land on the floor. He suddenly felt lightheaded and his breathing grew shallow when the person, a female, gave him an apologetic smile.

"Um, sorry to bother you…" she said timidly.

Logan continued to exhibit the symptoms of an oncoming heart attack. After several seconds of delving into his mind to relearn how to speak, he managed to choke out one word.

"_Jean?_"

-x X x-

Rogue glared at the nuisance better known as John Allerdyce standing in her way. After her run-in with Bobby's new smooch-partner, she had restored her belongings to their places in her room, and then had been summoned by Ororo again to ask her to invite Logan to the staff meeting later this evening. Still feeling quite sour toward him, she had grabbed Warren by the collar as he passed her in the corridor, asking him to deliver the message. His initial refusal to carry out her request was rapidly turned around when she provided a verbal elaboration of what a bucket of liquid tar could do to his beautiful wings. Although she was bluffing and wouldn't actually dream of hurting the man since she was the heroine and was, by protagonist law, not allowed to stoop to harming innocent sub-characters, he had taken her rather seriously.

Now all she wanted to do was enter the library and curl up with a good book, but it seemed that her old friend John had other ideas. He just stood there smirking at her, blockading the doorframe with his body.

"So, you decided to stay after all," he stated in that haughty tone of his.

"Yeah, but you're quickly making me change my mind," she answered, still glaring at him. "Are you going to move or am I going to have to make you?"

"Oh, please do." It was a statement meant to have a suggestive innuendo.

Unfortunately, she interpreted it as: _I DARE you, you meaningless insignificant human!_

She reached up and mercilessly pinched his left ear. The smirk was successfully erased from his face as he loudly protested her crablike grip. She only tightened it and tugged outwards and away from the entrance to the library. His body inevitably followed.

"Rogue! Why are you always touching him whenever I see you?" came Bobby's irritating perfect voice. In fact, it was so perfect that it made the singing of angels sound like claws scraping on a chalkboard.

She released her grip of John's violated ear as she gawked at Bobby disbelievingly. "Are you that _blind_? God, Bobby—"

"Yeah, can't you _see_ how much we mean to each other?" John interrupted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and scowling at the other boy.

Rogue was about to contradict John's declaration and shove him away from her, but as every triangle dictates, the third party must throw a wrench in the works. And that was exactly what Bobby did.

"Rogue, I think I still love you!" he cried passionately.

The other two froze, gaping at him in shock. John was the first to find his voice.

"WHAT!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A shrill, bloodcurdling scream suddenly tore throughout the entire mansion.

"Gah! Tell Siryn to give it a rest!" yelled Artie as he strode up the hallway and covered his ears.

The redheaded suspect appeared in the doorway of one of the study rooms and whacked him upside the head as he passed by. "It's not me," she informed crossly.

A second scream confirmed that fact, as it sounded like it came from the third floor… and getting nearer.

Several yards away in the next hallway were Rogue, John, and Bobby, all briefly disregarding their current issue as they eyed each other in silent query as to the source of the loud and frightened vocal work. Doors began to fly open around them as bewildered students poked their heads out of their respective classrooms, wondering what was happening, who was being murdered, and could they please see it.

"What on earth!" exclaimed Ororo as she crossed the foyer, unknowingly leaving a trail of pills behind her as the cap of one of her bottles came loose and fell off.

The thundering of footsteps echoed in the distance above them, accompanying the third scream. This time the sound was close enough so that Rogue could identify it as female, and the pounding footsteps were definitely two sets, one in pursuit of the other. Swift pursuit, that is, judging by the way they raced across the mansion and covered ground at an astonishing speed.

As the mayhem descended to the second floor, Rogue was able to distinguish another voice, a male, shouting something she couldn't make out.

"What is that?" was the most brilliant question Bobby could come up with.

Well, we've already established that he isn't Einstein…

The disgusted look Rogue sent him indicated that she had come to the same conclusion. "It's two gorillas initiating a mating ritual, Bobby," she said sarcastically. "You might want to run before they fornicate right above your head."

She was somewhat relieved when he stared at her sharply, signifying that he wasn't Forrest-Gump-retarded, at least. John, however, was scowling. Again. As usual.

"Someone go up there and shut them up," he growled, glaring up at the ceiling as it shook from the vibrations of the chase.

"_You_ go up there if it bothers you so much," Bobby countered, unappreciative of the other boy's constant complaining (even though this was actually the first occurrence of a complaint on John's part in the story).

John swung his angry glare at his longtime rival. "You wanna go, Iceman?"

"Take this outside, and yeah, I'll go—"

"I'm about to _go_ and get something to bash both of you over the head with," Rogue cut in venomously. She fixed both boys with a stern look. "John, stop trying to pick fights, especially since you don't even have your lighter. And Bobby, just shut up."

John visibly deflated at the word "lighter." His face took on the same withdrawn look that it had when his Zippo had been confiscated earlier, and he immediately quieted down and behaved. Bobby, on the other hand, seemed unable to do as told. He began rambling on about how it was all John's fault, how everything was John's fault, from the death of the Professor to global warming.

Rogue was seriously considering breaking his jaw, but the chaos had finally reached the first floor. She watched as a girl she didn't recognize flew down the main staircase in complete terror, followed closely by a crazed-looking Wolverine. The scene definitely seemed like a chase between a prey and a predator, and it looked like the prey was two inches away from extinction.

"Logan! What do you think you're doing!" yelled Ororo as they zoomed past her.

Usually a scene like this would drag on for several more paragraphs, with the mass population of the institute attempting to subdue and capture the duo. Fortunately, however, Ororo's spilled pills prevented further superfluous details, thus saving the readers unnecessary repetition of the classic chase episode.

Currently in a state of mild intoxication, Logan's normally quick and graceful reflexes were apparently on strike and quite absent as he slipped on the pills and crashed unceremoniously to the floor. The mystery girl had already beaten him to the hardwood, cringing as she tentatively rubbed the spot on her bum that had cushioned her fall. Rogue winced at the sight as people rushed past her to get a better look. Ignoring Bobby's ongoing babbling that had moved on to elaborating how John was to blame for the starving children of Ethiopia, she followed the crowd and stood on her toes to see past the shoulders of the taller mutants in front of her.

"It's… it's… J… Je…" Logan sputtered, pointing a finger straight at the mystery girl. His eyes held an insane quality about them.

Ororo glared at him as she helped the girl to her feet. "Logan, please produce a coherent sentence."

"Je… Je… JEAN!" screamed Logan, still pointing.

Rogue allowed herself a moment to entertain the idea that her old hero appeared to have regressed into Tarzan during the past month, pointing and grunting and communicating in one word sentences. He even looked the part. It was both sad and amusing.

Ororo's brow furrowed. "What?"

"JEAN!" repeated the king of the jungle.

All eyes turned to the girl accused of being the deceased doctor. She was clutching onto Ororo's forearms, gazing fearfully at the obviously delusional man before her. She did possess the same flaming red hair as Jean Grey, but other than that, she bore no resemblance to her at all.

In fact, she looked to be of Asian descent. Her slanted eyes were a striking emerald-jade-forest green with a hint of gold-yellow. She was of average height and was blessed with curves that any shallow girl would die for. Her complexion was unblemished, her skin creamy, and it was possible that she even rivaled Bobby in physical perfection.

That and she had a large set of hooters.

"You are mistaken, Logan. This is Mari Sukiko. She is a new student here at the institution," Ororo explained calmly.

Wolverine gaped at her wordlessly in disbelief.

Ororo turned to address the crowd. "It has stopped raining so there will be an outdoor assembly at 3 pm where we will formally introduce her. Make sure all of you are there."

-x X x-

"Hi! I'm Mari Sukiko! I'm so glad to be here!" exclaimed the spirited new girl, who seemed to have gotten over her earlier trauma.

And thus, the introduction of the obligatory OC. As a rule of thumb, most OCs must have a horrific past where they were neglected, abused, bullied, molested, raped, or treated like crap by people upon the manifestation of their powers. Consequently, it just so happened that this particular OC had suffered _all_ of the aforementioned mistreatment. Her eyes watering up, she conveyed this dramatically to the audience, going into an excruciatingly long run-on paragraph and adding a short discussion about how she was able to get through it all. Because all OCs must be perfect, beautiful, intelligent, and superior, she maintained a positive outlook on life throughout her ordeal.

Rogue was unimpressed with the story and believed it to be too much information for an initial introduction. Many of the other girls did not share her lack of sympathy, as they burst into tears at the heart-wrenching tale and decided to befriend Mari at once. On either side of Rogue sat John and Bobby, the former half asleep and the latter sitting there looking all perfect (of course).

Once the assembly finally came to a close and students began filing back into the mansion, Rogue found herself face to face with the OC.

"Hi! You must be Rogue! I've heard all about you from Ms. Munroe! Let's be friends!" Mari said cheerfully, even though ten minutes ago big crocodile tears had been rolling down her cheeks.

"Er…why don't you be friends with them?" Rogue asked, pointing to the group of girls who had joined in the waterworks.

"But _you're_ the one I want to hang out with! I tried to find your room by myself, but I ended up walking into Wolverine's room by mistake, and he thought I was someone else so that's why I was running from him, and now I'm thinking it was a bad idea to dye my hair red right before I came here." She said all this in one breath, her large multi-toned eyes shining the entire time.

Bobby chose that moment to join them, offering a warm smile and his outstretched hand. "Hey, I'm Bobby. It's nice to meet you," he said. Perfectly.

Mari took his hand and pumped it vigorously in an enthusiastic handshake. Also perfectly. "Nice to meet you, too. Are you Rogue's boyfriend?"

"No," Rogue answered sharply before Bobby could open his mouth. "Not anymore."

"He dumped her for some mousy girl," John added, coming up behind her. Leave it to him to contribute the uncalled for information.

Mari abruptly let go of Bobby's hand and fixed the ice mutant with an angry glare. "Oh, I see. So you're one of those guys, are you? Going from girl to girl, leaving a trail of broken hearts. Who do you think you are? I know how it feels to be heartbroken. There was this one time—"

"Excuse me?" Bobby cut in, aghast. "That's not how it is—"

"How dare you interrupt me!" Mari cried resentfully. "Have you no manners?"

It was an absolute sin to cut off an OC's dramatic account of one of their life stories because moments like this were the ones that emphasized the OC's importance and provided for their justification of being included in the plot. Bobby was rapidly losing brownie points with her.

He did not appear to care, however, as he puffed up indignantly at her patronizing attitude. Who was she to scold him like that when she herself had done the same thing? She didn't even know him, and already she was making all these assumptions about his character (_INCORRECT assumptions_, might he add). And most of all, she had the nerve to question his manners. _His PERFECT manners!_

"Feeling a bit agitated, Iceman?" John quipped, taking the opportunity to draw him into a fight. "And whaddya know, we're outside. You up to it or are you gonna run away like a little bitch again?" Obviously he had gotten over the absence of his Zippo and was back to his usual delinquent self.

Deciding that hitting a girl would be unacceptable because it would make him imperfect, Bobby chose to direct his anger at a more appropriate target. He finally answered John's challenge by producing a ball of ice in his palm.

John snickered almost gleefully. "About time."

This would be the first of many necessary scuffles between the two throughout the story. One, it revealed the true barbaric nature of men, which would force the female protagonist to see them in all their masculine splendor and sex appeal. Two, the one to receive the most damage would indubitably be taken under said protagonist's care, and they would without a doubt bond over the non-fatal injuries. That was how it was supposed to go.

Too bad this protagonist considered them both to be hopeless imbeciles who were seriously bordering on scum unworthy of her sight.

"I'll be inside if anyone needs me," said Rogue as she turned away from the unfolding battle of utter stupidity.

"The winner gets Rogue!" she heard John proclaim.

"Oh, it's on!" came Bobby's heated reply.

This was getting ridiculous. With all the events and unpleasant surprises that had happened today, she felt as if she were trapped in some twisted plotline. Or parody.

If only she knew.

-x X x-

It was only a matter of minutes before Mari found her attempting to hide in the far side of the reference section in the library. Rogue inwardly cursed, certain that her plan to spend the rest of the day reading quietly was officially foiled.

"There you are!" Mari chirped, plopping down on the floor next to her. "So is reading a favorite hobby of yours? I like reading, too. What books do you like? I like mystery novels best, they're so intriguing. What are you reading there?"

Rogue was quite sure that the girl was proficient in holding conversations with herself.

"What happened with John and Bobby?" she asked the younger mutant.

Not that she really cared per se… she just wanted to know whether or not she would be attending a funeral in the near future.

Mari's perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together. "Well, they duked it out for several minutes, and without powers. It looked like your boyfriend—"

"_Ex-_boyfriend, if you please."

"—Your _ex -_boyfriend had the upper hand at first, but then the other guy pointed behind him and screamed, 'Is that Kitty?' and I guess that meant something to your ex-boyfriend because he turned around right away to look. It all went downhill from there. They were both taken to the infirmary, but your ex-boyfriend was definitely worse off." She shook her head. "Wow, they must both really like you. Which one of them do you like more?"

"Ugh, neither," Rogue said, grimacing. What on earth would possess her to even remotely find either of those idiots appealing?

"Aww, come on. Just tell me which one, and I'll hook you up with him." Mari's smile was far too bright and jovial to be innocent.

Rogue stared at her with a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Please, don't. And I thought you didn't like Bobby."

"I personally don't, but it looked like he wanted to be with you, so…" Mari shrugged. Then her face brightened again as an idea struck her. "I know! I'll be your matchmaker! Since I am now officially your best friend forever, it's my duty to help you settle into a loving relationship!"

Another thing… unfortunately for Rogue, OCs tend to force their friendship on the author's favorite character.

She found the announcement absolutely appalling. Once again she considered marching back up to her room, repacking her things, and hightailing it out of there. Really, there was only so much she could take. Bobby and Kitty together, John's return, and now this lunatic sitting here grinning at her, practically vowing to be her all-time companion. She wouldn't be able to handle it.

Aware that it would be too impolite to simply tell Mari to get lost, she scanned her mind for milder synonymous phrases that would get the point across just as effectively.

"Oh yeah, I heard you took the cure," Mari said, looking at her intently.

_Just how much about me do you know?_ Rogue thought irately.

"And in case you regret it even for a little bit, I can help you out…"

Before Rogue could react, she reached out and tapped her on the forearm.

Seconds passed.

Nothing happened. Rogue didn't feel any different.

"Um… what did you just do?" she asked.

Mari only smiled impishly and hopped to her feet. "Well, I'll see you later, Rogue!" With that, she scurried toward the exit.

"Hey!" Rogue called out, jumping up and going after her.

In her determination to catch the eccentric Asian girl, she didn't see the petite brunette perched on top of one bookshelf until she heard her leap from it.

"PREPARE TO DIE, ROGUE!" screamed the ever-ooc Kitty.


End file.
